


All the ways things might have been

by MatildaSwan



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Multi, Pastel Bi Morven Digby, background Morven/Cam, everyone on AAU is much gayer than originally anticiapted, polyamory and queer realisations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 13:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11013969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaSwan/pseuds/MatildaSwan
Summary: With a fraction of a turn here and the barest hint of a twist there, exactly how different can things be while staying almost exactly the same?(collection of canon divergent one shots/canon compliant missing scenes)





	1. Realisations

**Author's Note:**

> Response to @mylittleredgirl's prompt: berena+mistaken for dating
> 
> CW: one instance of implied homophobia

It takes Serena a while to notice. An embarrassingly long time, in hindsight, to realise. She likes to think she can be forgiven for not grasping it quicker, because after all it was all so innocuous in the beginning, there was barely anything for her pick up on anyway.

She likes to think she can be forgiven for not noticing sooner. Not noticing the assumptions others made about her or about Bernie. Not noticing the assumptions colleagues and their families and strangers and their dogs made about Bernie and herself. She wants to be forgiven, really, for not noticing it sooner: how she and Bernie might as well be dating.

*

If Serena had been paying attention, she would have known it went on for weeks, months even, before she caught her first inclining. She would have noticed it starting with Serena herself, really, always assuming that Bernie will agree whenever she asks for company. Bernie doing the same for her and neither of them having any issue sharing that company with Jason.

She would have noticed it growing, to includes others. Others like Raf and Fletch who only bother to invite one of them out, always assuming they will bring the other anyway. Or bumping into Dom in Pulses and him asking her to say hello to Bernie too. And Ellie asking after Bernie every time Serena calls because they are, apparently, “all Serena ever talks about.”

If she had been paying attention Serena would have noticed the patients jumping on board too.

“Oh, your lady already did that,” appendicitis in bed 4 said, looking at Serena at the foot of the bed.  

“What lady?” Serena asks, missing the possessive as she flicks through their notes.

“The blonde one. Came by about five minutes ago and did what you’re doing.”

She feels, more than hears, Bernie walking up behind her as the patient speaks.

“You mean this one,” Serena asks, looking up. Rounds on Bernie and pushes the notes into her hands. “Guess you’ve called dibs then, Ms. Wolfe, they’re all yours,” she says with a smirk.

Serena darts off to the other side of the ward and out of earshot leaving Bernie with the patient.

“Feisty, she is, and a looker,” they quip. “That doctor of yours.”

“Oh, she’s not mine,” Bernie replies without thinking. Cringes at her misstep, grateful Serena cannot hear her standing two beds over and three beds down, and corrects herself. “I mean, yes, Ms. Campbell is a very fine doctor,” she says, before diving into medical jargon to hide her embarrassment.

*

Even though she has no idea when it all started Serena does remember when she first began to twig: a perfectly average evening getting drinks after clocking off.

It had been a decent enough shift, steady but not hectic, but Serena still felt the urge to smash through a bottle before getting an early night. She had said as much, in their office. Bernie had smiled, offered to keep Serena company and help her drink. Serena had laughed, nodded, called Jason and left with Bernie in toe.

She turns right instead of left leaving the hospital car park, and takes Bernie on a bit of goose chase around Holby. Stops at a quiet pub the suburb over from Serena’s house. Bernie get out of the car, looks at Serena smirking face but doesn’t ask. Just shrugs her shoulders and walks into the pub.

Bernie wanders off to find them some seats as Serena walks to the bar. She orders a bottle and the bartender, a slip of a girl barely 20 year old, ferrets around the wine rack behind the bar. She turns back, hands empty, and apologises.

“I’m sure there is a bottle out the back, I’ll nip out and grab it,” she says, smile wide and earnest. Serena smiles her thanks back. “I’ll bring it over to you and your girlfriend,” the bartender calls over her shoulder as she ducks out of the service area.

Serena barely resisters the word and walks back over to Bernie sitting in front of an unlit fireplace. Doesn’t think anything of it until the bartender comes over with their shiraz five minutes later. She looks at Bernie and Serena with a sparkle in her eye, like they let her in a secret, and tells them to have a good night.

Bernie blushes as the bartender walks away and Serena cannot help but think she missed part of the conversation.

*

It keeps happening, after that, the feeling that Serena is getting half a conversation: that she is only hearing part of what people are saying around her when Bernie is there. Especially when they’re away from the ward.

Jason insists on going to a new exhibit at the local museum on Serena day off. She huffs and moans but doesn’t say no. He suggests she ask Bernie come with them and she perks up. She asks and Bernie agrees though neither of them seem much of the actual exhibit. They both ask too many questions and Jason asks to walk around in the museum alone so they leave him to take his time in silence.

It is unseasonably warm that day so they decide to enjoy the sun and walk around the park across from the museum. Serena hears bees humming in the gardens as they pass students napping on the grass and office workers on their coffee break. They alternate between chatting as they walk and the walking in silence: both feel as comfortable as the other.

They walk past a flower cart and Serena stops. Bends down to smell an enormous purple allium that the florist tries to talk them into buying.

“It’s a beautiful flowers worthy of such a beautiful woman,” he says, looking at Bernie and gesturing towards Serena. Serena smirks as she stands and looks at Bernie. Bernie rolls her eyes. The florist sees Bernie’s reaction and zeros in on her. “You might wanna step up your game, luv, or she’ll find someone better,” he says and waggles his eyebrows.

Serena pins him with a glare. His face falls. Neither of them buy the flower and the keep walking. Serena doesn’t notice the bright red Bernie beside her.

Nor does she notice the vase of small magenta alliums that appears on their office desk a few days later, pushed against the cabinet in front of the window. Not till they’re nearing the end of their vase life, anyway, and Serena has to throw them away before they start moulting on the paperwork.

*

Paperwork that keeps piling up and piling up. Serena walks into the office at the beginning of one shift and spends most of the day doing her best to ignore it. Passes day on the ward, enjoying the calm, until she has to deal with a partially difficult patient: 45 year old women presenting with severe abdominal pain.

She is being obtuse about treatment and requests that Raf take her case. Well, specifically, “that tiny Scottish bloke” instead of Serena or “her bitchy blonde friend”. Serena struggles not to laugh in her face at calling Bernie “bitchy” and goes off to get Raf and some painkillers for the headache she can feel forming behind her eyes.

The afternoon wears on but the word “friend” sticks in Serena’s mind. It bothers Serena but she doesn’t know why. It is, after all, an accurate assessment of their relationship and thus an empirical statement of fact. Bernie is Serena’s friend: her best friend.

It bothers Serena, how this woman had managed to make the word sound like an insult. Said it like it had two extra syllables and an alternative meaning. Said it in the same opaque tone Serena reserves for rosé and bugs being near her person. Like their friendship was somehow shameful.

It bothers Serena but she says nothing about it. She doesn’t know what to say so she stays silent when Bernie bumps into her in the office a few hours later and asks her why the long face.

Serena just smiles and laments having another two hours until her shift ends. Says what she would give for a few minutes of quiet. Bernie points the huge pile of paperwork on Serena’s desk. Challenges Serena to get through half of the stack. Promises it is her shout that night if Serena can manage it and takes care to shut the door gently behind her.

Serena tries not to be smug when she closes the final folder two minutes before clocking off. She finds Bernie on the ward, wrapping up with a patient, and tells Bernie drinks are on her. Bernie smiles, tiny and small and knowing.

Serena realises that Bernie planned this. That she deliberately took over the ward after they spoke to give Serena some time alone. She smiles back and thinks how wonderful it is to work with her best friend.

*

Serena knows that Bernie will make good on her offer but cannot be bothered with the bustle of Albie’s that night. Says she fancies somewhere quiet, that she is famished, and suggests they grab dinner instead. Bernie seems keen enough, after checking in about Jason, and says Serena can choose where they eat.

Serena fancies carbs and red wine and the logical choice is Italian. The waiter beams as they walk in and beckons them towards the back of the restaurant. He grabs the tiny posy of flowers from an empty table and drops in the middle of their table: a table for two in the most secluded corner of the restaurant with flowers and a candle in the middle. He lights it as they make themselves comfortable.

“I’ll leave you with the dinner menus, unless you want to skip straight to dessert?”

Serena thinks he might offer them some serenading violins next and she finally realises: he thinks the two of them are on a date.

She almost bursts out laughing. Looks up at Bernie doing her best impression of a socially anxious strawberry and sobers. Orders three fingers of whisky and a bottle of wine instead.

Bernie hides behind her menu and Serena follows suit. The silence wears on even after their drinks arrive and they order.

“What did the grape say when it got stepped on?” Serena tries to crack a joke.

“Umm…” Bernie blinks at her as Serena pours herself a glass of red.

“It let out a little whine,” Serena says, smiling at herself as she takes a sip.

Bernie stares at her for three painstaking seconds that feel so long Serena wants to crawl in on herself. Then Bernie laughs, loud and uninhibited. So loud that Serena can feel the the rest of the table turn to stare at them.

She doesn’t care in the slightest. Doesn’t have a single flying fish worth of care because Bernie honks like a goose and smiles like a puppy and she is doing that right now because of something Serena said. She dissolves into laughter as well, ice properly broken and tension eased, and the two of them thoroughly enjoy the rest of their night.

*

After the not date Serena wonders if she ought to actually talk to Bernie. Maybe even try to get Bernie to talk back. She agonises over it for all of five minutes before deciding against it.

After all she has no problem being associated with ladies of a more sapphic persuasion. And so what if the occasional stranger assumes — wrongly — about her but goes out of their way to make her feel welcome. Kindness like that can only be a good thing, she thinks, for women who are actually out on dates with other women.

But the problem is not the assumption, not really. The main issue is the certainty every one else seems to have developed about Bernie and her and the nature of their friendship. Saying something out loud would just make all that bigger than it needs to be and she doesn’t want to embarrass Bernie.

Or, worse, offend her. The last thing she wants Bernie to think is that Serena has a problem with her interest in women. Well, the interest Serena assumes she has in women, given Alex, though she has to admit Bernie has never mentioned anything to do with dating since the divorce.

She doesn’t want to bring it up and have Bernie think being around her makes Serena uncomfortable. Serena never wants Bernie to feel uncomfortable around her and she has no idea how to have that conversation so Serena says nothing.

*

They’re in the supermarket when Serena finally notices. Jason had invited Bernie to come over for dinner, not realising Serena needs to go shopping first. Bernie seems nonplused when Serena explains she needed to make a trip to the shops on the way. Just suggests they go together to pick up supplies.

Thankfully Bernie is the stoic sort that likes pushing a trolley, Serena finds as she flits from one side the isle to the other. Bernie brings up the rear and Serena pulls things off the shelf; dropping them in the trolley as Bernie slowly pushes. She catches Bernie smiling at her rereading through her shopping list for the fourth time and fights the urge to poke her tongue out at her.

Eventually they have everything they need for dinner and Serena goes to make a beeline to the checkout. Only Bernie steers them towards the dessert aisle instead. Serena clues into why when they stroll by the racks of chocolate and Bernie turns to Serena smiling that wide puppy smile of hers.

“Oh, fine! You can chose dessert,” Serena huffs, affection lightening her tone. Bernie sets herself to task. “One thing, mind,” Serena add, realising she needs to cover her bases in case Bernie’s sweet tooth decided to take the whole rack home.

“Children in candy stores, the lot of them,” a voice to the left of Serena’s elbow says.

Serena turns to see a middle aged woman with mousy blonde hair smiling over at her. Serena quirks an eyebrow and the woman jerks her chin to another woman, standing close to Bernie, already holding three blocks of chocolate and reaching over to make it four. Serena looks at Bernie with her floppy hair and wolf grin and nods to the stranger.

“I know what you mean,” Serena replies as Bernie back walks towards her and the trolley.

“This way we all get to share,” Bernie grins as she drops in a family sized block of chocolate and pulls the trolley towards her.

Serena smiles and hears the other woman giggle. Turns and nods goodbye before she starts trailing behind Bernie.

They recognise each other at the checkout, standing parallel as two sets of pairs. They smile at one another as they both lean against the conveyer belt as their trolley gets unpacked by their company. The line shifts forward and they roll along.

Serena turns to the side as Bernie politely talks to the lady behind the check out and looks towards her new acquaintance. Sees the mousy blonde slip an arm around the other woman with a sweet tooth to rival Bernie’s and pulls her into a one armed hug. The other woman leans into the hug and they both turn their heads to kiss lightly on the lips before breaking apart.

Serena feels her tummy almost flip and blinks. Looks back at Bernie, now stacking their groceries into the trolley. _Their_ groceries, Serena notices her own words, in a trolley they’re going to roll towards the car and unpack together before driving home to cook together and eat together and spend the evening together. They might live in different parts of town and sleep in different beds but Serena was less domestic in a marriage that birthed her child. She feels her tummy properly flop.

Serena finally notices that the world has had good reason to think that she and Bernie are dating and has done for some time. She feels the world shift out from underneath her as she finally realises she wishes it were true.


	2. AAU? more like GAyAU I think (a.k.a THE GAYU GAYAAU OF G A Y)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There must be something in the water of AAU because the gay seems to be catching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> response to "Anonymous asked: I wish you would write a fic about the adventures of pastel bi Morven Digby, and the loves of her life, and the lesbian foster mum Bernie Wolfe, who tries to help her along the way."
> 
> shout out to [withkissesfour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withkissesfour/pseuds/withkissesfour) for the beta and half the title <3

Bernie heaves yet another heavy sigh as she flips the patient file shut and thumps the now complete paperwork in the out tray. She sighs again, possibly even harder, as she looks at the still looming pile and sneers.

“Bloody Ric,” she grumbles to herself, “Coming in here, demanding all paperwork get done but not doing any of it himself.” She purses her lips, grabs the next file, and picks up her pen again. “I mean, I know it’s my paperwork, but he could still lend a hand till I’ve shifted this backlog,” she reasons. “That’d be more useful than posturing around the ward all day.”

She knows it’s petty, even if it is a bit warranted, but sometimes grumbling is good for the soul. So Bernie grumbles as she works her way through some of the stack while the ward is quiet. She likes to thinks it’ll make the time move faster until her shift is over soon.

She is still grumbling at the now almost finished pile when she hears a knock at the door.

She looks up, sees Morven blinking back at her, decked in civvies and presumably already clocked off.

“Fancy coming to Albie’s tonight?” Morven asks, chipper and beaming at Bernie in the low light.

“Ah, probably not tonight, I want to get this bloody stack sorted.”

“Ric had another go at you about paperwork?” Morven ventures and Bernie smirks.

“You know it,” she says with a chuckle. “Albie’s another time?”

“Oh, okay, see you tomorrow,” Morven says, close to a sigh, and makes to leave.

Bernie mightn’t be the most skilled reader of humans in the world but she isn’t completely dense; if she didn’t know any better she’d think Morven looks downright dejected as her rebuff.

“What’s up?” she asks before Morven can turn to walk away. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine, of course,” Morven reassures with a flap of her hand. Her face shifts as she seems to reconsider. “It’s just, ah, actually, I’ve got something I want to talk to you about?”

“Oh, okay.” She never liked the sound of “we need to talk”. “What’s Ric done now?”

“Oh, nothing!” Morven flaps again. “It’s not about the ward at all, and I, ah, I’d rather talk about it away from work, if we can?”

Bernie blinks, a bit confused, and wonders what it is that Morven needs to talk about, talk to her about, specifically.

“Ah, yeah, sure, of course.” Even if Morven has only asked to talk because everyone else she’s already reached out to hasn’t helped, she’s still asked for Bernie’s ear, and Bernie ever was one to leave a friend stranded. “Give me half an hour and I’ll meet you at the bar?”

Morven beams wide and nodded vigorously. “Great, I’ll see you there! Thank you!”

Bernie watches Morven as she races past the window and stops herself wondering what Morven wants to talk about. Instead, she turns her attention back the paperwork and does her level best to get it all finished before she leaves to find out what exactly it is that Morven needs to tell her.

*

Bernie walks into Albie’s and spies Morven sitting at the bar with an empty seat next to her, waiting for Bernie. She strides in, straddles the bar stool, and gets herself comfortable. She tries to flag down one of the bar staff.

“So,” Bernie prompts in lieu of a greeting. “What do you want to talk about?”

Morven snaps towards her, a touch shocked—Bernie notices the phone on her hand and assumes Morven had been too distracted to notice she’d arrived—before collecting herself and smiling. Bernie mumbles an apology and wonders what’s got Morven so jumpy. She is nervous, to say the least, and Bernie beings to wonder what Morven has to talk about it and why it has to be Bernie she talks about it to.

Morven brushes off the apology, says it’s nothing to worry about. The barman comes over and Bernie orders a glass of pinot gris. Bernie turns back to Morven and the look in her eye has Bernie more worried than ever and her brain goes to the absolute worse case scenario it can muster. The barman comes back and starts pouring as Bernie blurts out her suspicions.

“Has Cam got you pregnant?” Morven snaps her head towards Bernie and blinks. The barman keeps pouring the wine. Bernie’s hyper-anxious brain takes Morven’s silence as a “yes” and she just manages to keep herself from flying off the handle. “I’ll kill him, I swear to god,” Bernie rambles, reaching for her phone to give her son a right earful about safe sex precautions.

“What!” Morven’s shout gives her pause and Bernie looks up with her hand hovering over the call button. “No, god no! It’s nothing like that, we’d never not be careful, especially now we’re seeing other people, it’s nothi—”

“You broke up?” Bernie interrupts. She really ought to keep better track of things. She turns to her glass of wine, realises it’s ¾ full and the barman has slunk away rather than get caught in their conversation. She reminds herself to tip later. “When?”

“Oh, we haven’t, we’re just seeing other people too.” Bernie frowns at Morven and carefully picks up her glass. “We, um, we both have things we need to figure out, about ourselves, so we decided we’d keep things open, between us, and see how things play out.”

“Ah, I see,” Bernie says, slow nod of the head, despite that she really doesn’t. She thinks it’s a good idea to sit back and let Morven lead this conversation than put her foot in it again. She’s going to stick to supportive “umms” and “oohs” until she knows what’s going on and sip her wine until she understands the world again.

“You do? Oh, good!” Moven perks up and Bernie thinks she might have put her foot in it again and she hasn’t even said anything. “I was wondering if you’d heard about the catfishing thing or not, I mean you obviously has more important things to worry about at the time and—”

“Wait, sorry, catfishing?” Bernie wonders what the aquarium had to do with anything.

“You know, someone pretending to be someone they’re not online to, ah, strike up a relationship?”

“Right,” Bernie says incredulously. The things kids get up to these days. “And that’s a thing, that happened, to you, ah, recently?”

“Yes? I mean, you haven’t heard?”

Bernie shakes her head.

“Oh, right, well, Jasmine catfished me, pretending to be this guy named Nathan, and we were messaging a lot and he was really kind and sweet and funny and I really liked him and hoped we were dating but in the end it was just Jas trying to be nice and at first I was really mad but then it got me thinking I really liked Nathan, only Nathan was Jasmine and, ah, I…” Morven trails off and Bernie nods, trying to keep up—she didn’t remember dating being this complicated when she was young—and waits for Morven to figure out what else she needs to say.

“So, I figured out that what I was feeling was for Jasmine…and, ah, that got me thinking, about liking Jasmine…and liking girls…” Morven trails off again, rubbing her fingertips together and staring at the ground.

Bernie finally cottons on what this conversation is really all about.

“Ah, right! So, Jasmine…endeared herself to you while pretending to be this, Nathan fellow, and then you found out she’d just been lying to you only you weren’t as mad as you thought you should have been and it made you wonder if you might like her and then end up being a little, well, ah, gayer than you planned?” Bernie asks gently, hoping to coax Morven out of the nervous shell she’s encased herself in now.

Morven giggles, looks up at Bernie with a small smile, and Bernie smiles back.

“That’s the long and the short of it, really,” Morven says as she scrunches her nose and shrugs. “And I was, um, hoping you could ah, teach me how to ask out girls?”

Bernie blinks at Morven before bursting out into reams of honking laughter. Eventually she calms down enough to wipe her eyes and sees Morven has clammed up again.

“No, no, sorry, Morven, it’s just… I’m really not the best person to ask about that sort of thing, I’ve never really asked anyone out, not properly.”

“You haven’t?” Morven asks, disbelieving, and Bernie shakes her head.

She really hadn’t ever, except with maybe Serena and the dinner that never happened. But by that stage they were already best friends and half in love and muddling through, and that’s not really the same thing as asking someone out at all, Bernie reasons, and she rather doubts that suggesting to aim for that kind of situation is actually good advice. And with Alex, they were really just a rush of wanting and not thinking and it wasn’t as if they ever really dated, not with Bernie as Alex’s commanding officer, and no chance of being public about them at all. She hadn’t ever really gotten around to it with blokes either, there hadn’t been many before Marcus and he’d been the one to ask her out, all she’d done was say yes to pints after class one day.

Bernie scrunches up her face and shrugs.

“But I imagine it’s not very different from asking out blokes, and I supposed the best way to do it it just to, ask them out.”

“Oh, thanks,” Morven says, a touch snarky. “That’s very useful, never would have thought of that on my own.”

“No, I mean, literally, just ask, suggest coffee, or drinks one day, something casual, and see where it goes from there.”

“But, what if she’s not, interested like that?”

“Then she say no,” Bernie replies simply, still unsure how she managed to get herself into this conversation. “Maybe she’ll get a bit embarrassed, or flustered, and I know it’ll suck, especially if you already like someone and they say no, but really Morven, it’d hardly be the end of the world.”

Morven ponders the thought and Bernie retrospectives for a moment. “You’re still figuring yourself out, and it helps to be kind to yourself as you go, and don’t stress yourself out. Just, focus on the first step, on asking, before you get too worried about the rest of if.” Bernie smiles kindly at Morven. “Because if you get too bound up in the what happens after you ask, the what ifs and the maybes, you’ll never ask, and you’ll never know that the answer might have been. Isn’t it better to ask and know, than never ask at all?”

God, her therapist would be so proud of her right now.

“You’re right, I know” Morven says, nodding slowly. “I guess I’m just nervous.”

“Oh, so you have got your eye on someone then?” Bernie asks, because she’d started to wondered. Morven smiles and Bernie has a thought. “God, it’s not Jasmine is it?” Even Bernie can see how that would be a less than stella idea, given what Morven’s just told her.

“No, no, that’s a whole other kettle of fish,” Morven says, vigorously shaking her head and hands as well. “It’s, ah, you know the new barista at Pulses?”

Bernie shakes her head and reminds herself to pay more attention when she orders coffee next. She smiles, eggs Morven to keep on talking, and sips her wine as she listens to Morven gush about the barista with the dreamy eyebrows and a peach perfect smile.

*

Bernie is midway through ward rounds with the F1s when Morven comes racing into the ward. Well, not really racing, given it would be highly dangerous to actually run on the ward, but more of a very fast waddle on the tips of her toes. She rushes up to Bernie, eyes sparkling, with smile so wide and practically bouncing.

“She said yes!” Morven hisses, trying to keep her voice down but evidently wanting to shout things from the rooftops.

Bernie snaps her attention to the junior doctors and excuses them both. “Be back in a moment,” she says as she guides Morven, gently and by the elbow, towards her office.

“Who said what?”

“Laura, the barista, said yes!” Morven eyes are still gleaming with excitement but she’s calmed down enough not to be bouncing anymore. “I was taking a break at Pulses and she had her break too and she come over and there were no other tables so she asked if I’d mind if she sat with me and of course I said I wouldn’t mind and we got chatting and she said she always like serving me because I was always smiling and I just, asked her out for drinks, thought coffee might be a bit too mundane given she works in a cafe, and she said yes!” Morven stops and sucks in a huge breath before adding, “I even got her number!”

Bernie beams wide, eyes bright, as she fully catching on to the conversation. “Well done you,” she congratulates Morven. “I’m very glad to hear it went well.”

“You were right, about not worrying what she said, and now I’ve got a date for Friday night!”

“That’s great!” Bernie exclaims, before frowning when she remembers. “Hang on, aren’t you covering for Fletch on Friday while he and Raf have date night?”

Morven’s face falls. “Bollocks.” She runs her fingers over the nape of her neck and scuffs her toe on the ground, looks up at Bernie with big pleading eyes. “Any chance that you could cover me covering Fletch?” she asks, voice sugar sweet.

Bernie purses her lips, huffs out her nose, and remember Cam is due to start back at Holby this week and is rostered on to work that night. They’ve not gotten a chance to catch up since her and Morven’s discussion and Bernie is still wondering what sort of soul-searching Cam has been doing recently and, if her suspicions are correct, who he might be doing that searching with. Maybe if they’re on the ward together Cam will be more inclined to spill the beans and at the very least she’ll get the chance to see her son, even if it isn’t, strictly speaking, quality family time.  

“Oh, go on then, I’ll take the shift.” Morven beams at Bernie and almost claps with excitement and Bernie can’t help smiling back. She turns serious again, just for a moment, to add “but you’ll own me, remember that!”

Morven giggles, nods her head vigorously, and dashes away. Bernie watches as Morven ends up getting flagged down by Fletch for a consult. She looks at Fletch and thinks of Raf, still upstairs in Keller but due back soon.

She looks away and thinks of Serena, gone from the ward and waiting for her at home. Thinks of waking up that morning with Serena wrapped around her. Thinks about how very hard it is to get out of bed each morning when it means leaving Serena still curled up in their bed. Bernie knows the only thing that gets her out of bed in the morning is keeping the ward firing on all cylinders, just the way she promised. She knows she only leaves the house to look after the ward the way Bernie promised Serena she would in her absence.

She looks back at Morven and Fletch and then behind them. She notices Lou chatting up the new agency nurse on the other side of the nurses station. She smiles as the new nurse chats right back, hand on her hip and ponytail flicking from side to side as she laughs at something Lou said.

Bernie turns her attention back the new brood of junior doctors: sees Jane making eyes at a patient as she asks how she managed to dislocate her knee (playing lacrosse, Bernie hears the response as she walks back up to the bed) and her two other doctors, John and Romesh, flirting with one another (they snap back to attention when she stands in front of them).

“Jesus!” Bernie thinks as she bites back a smile while Jane fills her in on the patient history she’d missed. “Is anyone on this ward straight?”


End file.
